


Bed Sharing 399

by Hinn_Raven



Series: I Majored in Tuckington [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After last time Wash isn't sure that sharing a bed with Tucker is such a good idea. Luckily, Tucker has plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Sharing 399

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltsanford](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltsanford/gifts).



> Once upon a time I was a pure blog. A clean blog. I didn’t write smut, that’s what I’m saying. But I’ve been warning ya’ll it was coming and here it is. The smutty sequel to Bed Sharing 101. DON’T JUDGE ME OKAY IT’S CLICHE AS FUCK AND RIDICULOUS BUT FUCK IT, IT’S DONE. 
> 
> IT’S ALSO NSFW AS FUCK SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. 
> 
> Thanks to goodluckdetective saltsandford and dragonslaved for all cheering me on in my first smut writing!

It wasn’t until Wash found himself standing outside of the door at midnight that he realized that he had made a mistake.

He hadn’t mentioned needing a new room to Kimball.

He was stuck here.

He stood outside of the door, unmoving. He didn’t want to touch the doorknob. He didn’t want to move in.

Except that he did, and that was the entire problem. Because on the other side of that door was Tucker. A probably shirtless Tucker, in bed, with bad jokes ready and a smirk and...

Wash didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle this. He’d never experienced anything like it before—he’d shared beds before, but it had never been like _that_. His cheeks heated up at the memory of Tucker’s shameless smirk as he “accidentally” shifted against Wash.

Wash forced his hand forward, resting it on the doorknob. He was an adult. He could handle this. They’d just pretend it had never happened, and then Wash would actually succeed in getting out of bed before anything embarrassing happened and then he’d get things sorted with Kimball, and Wash would get out of this without dying of embarrassment and he and Tucker could just pretend this all had never happened.

He swallowed. He turned the doorknob.

Tucker was sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. He was angled oddly, not under the covers, limbs splayed out haphazardly, and snoring.

Wash was torn between the urge to smile fondly and to roll his eyes at Tucker. He had no idea what Tucker had been hoping to achieve here, but he walked forward to move Tucker under the blankets.

But the minute he grabbed Tucker’s shoulders, intending to tilt him so he wasn’t taking up all the bed, Tucker’s eyes fluttered open, and Wash suddenly realized that his face might be just a little too close, Tucker’s forehead smacked against his as he started.

Wash stumbled backwards, clutching his forehead. “Tucker!” He growled.

“What? Wash?” Tucker blinked sleepily. “Shit, did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, Tucker,” Wash said, letting his hand fall as the pain faded. Hopefully it wouldn’t bruise. He did _not_ want to imagine how much the others would laugh at him for that one. “You did.”

“Shit,” Tucker said, sitting up. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Obviously,” Wash replied, sighing. “It’s late, Tucker. Let’s just…” He paused. “What, exactly, _were_ you planning?”

Tucker raised his eyebrows at him. “Uh, wasn’t it obvious?”

“If it was obvious, I wouldn’t ask,” Wash said, irritated.

Tucker’s grin was blinding, and suddenly he was sprawling across the bed, shirtless, and then he produced a fully stemmed rose from _somewhere,_ and put it between his teeth, smirking shamelessly as he stretched, making sure that Wash couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Wash’s reaction was dually embarrassing as he blushed at the ridiculousness of the whole scene and then as what exactly he was looking at sunk in and blood immediately rushed in the opposite direction.

Tucker wasn’t wearing underwear this time.

“Tucker! What the fuck?” Wash yelped, stumbling backwards into the wall.

Tucker groaned. “ _Wash_.” The word was garbled by the rose stem, so he pulled it out of his mouth and threw it at Wash. Someone had painstakingly removed every single thorn, making it harmless.

“Wash,” Tucker said, more clearly. “I’m picking up where we left off.”

Wash’s brain went blank for a moment. “ _What_?”

Tucker groaned. “ _Wash_. Did you forget this morning already?”

Wash’s blush managed to intensify. “This morning was…” Wash spluttered, unsure of where to go. “It was… Tucker, I—” He stared at the rose on the floor. “Where you trying to _seduce me_?”

There was a long pause. “Well?” Tucker asked. “Is it working?”

“I—”

Wash should stop. Wash should leave. He should run away. He definitely _shouldn’t_ take a step towards Tucker. He definitely shouldn’t reach out—to do what, he wasn’t sure, because Tucker was stark naked and it’s not like there’s not anything besides Tucker’s hair to grab. (A part of Wash was very intrigued by that idea, although he hadn’t quiet gotten that far yet.)

Luckily, Tucker got his meaning, and moved forward, grabbing Wash’s arm and propelling the two of them into the bed.

“Tucker!” Wash yelped, as he lands right on top of Tucker. Tucker grinned shamelessly, and reached up and pressed his hand against the back of Wash’s head, and then guided him down for a kiss.

It was warm despite the chill of the room and Wash was scrambling to process everything when Tucker’s tongue made its way into his mouth and Wash lost all coherent thought, losing himself in the feeling of it all—Tucker’s hands, gliding under his shirt, along his scars and muscles until he stopped briefly at Wash’s pecs, flicking Wash’s nipples for a second in a way that made Wash gasp against Tucker’s mouth, before they continued their journey, slipping around and beginning to reverse their trek down his back.

It was too much, and Wash broke away for a second to pull his shirt completely off—he couldn’t stand the barrier between them any longer, even if it was just cheap cotton, and then Tucker bucked up against him, and okay, he could stay away from Tucker just a bit longer if it meant getting his pants off too.

Tucker lost patience and sits up, pressing his lips against Wash’s neck, sucking and biting a series of bruises into it, hands still wandering freely the whole time.

“ _Tucker_ ,” Wash gasped, fumbling as he tried to push his sweats down without moving away from Tucker and his amazing mouth.

Tucker pulled away, smirking in a way that irritated Wash but also made him try to move even faster as he unceremoniously threw his sweatpants towards the door, leaving him in only his underwear. He hesitated for a second, but then quickly sent his boxers after his pants, and then moved back to kissing Tucker.

Wash was thinking more clearly now, and let his own hands move, exploring every inch of Tucker. His hands brushed against the scars on Tucker’s stomach, and steadily moved downwards, following the muscled lines to Tucker’s thighs. Wash has had _thoughts_ about those thighs for a very long time, and now…

Tucker moved slightly, guiding Wash with his hands until Wash found himself pushed down into the mattress, Tucker on top of him.

Tucker took a second to spit onto his hand, and Wash bit down the instinctive, _Tucker, that’s disgusting_ , because… because _oh_. His dick twitched.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Tucker said, his eyes dark and his smile absolutely filthy. His hands brush against Wash’s dick, barely grazing it really, but Wash bucked up towards him and he let out an embarrassing noise. He flushed, and tried to jam his jaw shut to prevent further noises, but Tucker leaned down, pressing his lips against Wash’s mouth for a moment before working his way along Wash’s jaw, to his earlobe, and Wash let out another moan as Tucker’s hand began to stroke him, slowly, agonizingly.

“C’mon Wash,” Tucker muttered into Wash’s ear, his breath unbearably hot against his skin. “Let me hear it.”

Wash wanted to protest, but… it’s Tucker. And no one’s nearby. So as Tucker began to work up a pace, Wash just arced into his hand, and let every single whine, moan, and groan escape him in a non-stop litany, occasionally interrupted with a breathless _Tucker_.

Wash maneuvered his thigh between Tucker’s legs and started trying to grind against him more effectively, despite how his coherent thoughts were lost to the waves of sensation. Tucker threw his head back and let out a moan. “Yeah, Wash, just like that, _fuck_ ,” so Wash guessed it was working okay.

Tucker ground against his leg and kept moving his hand and Wash was close, so close, ridiculously close, and then Tucker was bending down and kissing him again, and Wash let out a shuddering cry, muffled by Tucker’s mouth, and came into Tucker’s hand.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Tucker muttered, and Wash’s mind refocused in an instant, wrapping his legs around Tucker’s waist and flipping them, so that he was straddling Tucker.

“My turn,” Wash said, feeling breathless, and Tucker’s smirk was wide, and he ground upward. Wash made a big show out of licking a large swipe down his hand, grinning as he saw how it made Tucker’s eyes go wide. It still wasn’t wet enough, so Wash had to give in and spit onto his hand as well, and then he wrapped his fingers around Tucker’s dick.

Tucker bucked up into his hand, a stream of dirty talk already beginning, egging Wash on. Wash stole a trick from Tucker, bending over and pressing his lips against Tucker’s exposed neck, kissing the hollow of his throat before slowly moving downwards, licking Tucker’s sensitive nipples.

“Fuck _,_ ” Tucker said, hands fisting in the sheets. “Fuck, Wash, I’m gonna… Fuck you’re so good, Wash, so fucking good, I always knew you’d be good with your mouth, _shit_ , do that again.”

Wash pretended that he wasn’t blushing as he moves to the other nipple, still steadily pumping with his hand. He found a rhythm, and Tucker was rocking into him, his hands moving to Wash’s hair, keeping Wash’s mouth near Tucker’s chest.

“ _Wash_ ,” Tucker cried, and Wash had never known his name could sound like that, as Tucker shuddered and came.

The sheets were a mess, not fit to being slept on, but somehow, Wash found he really didn’t care. He ripped off the top sheet and threw it to the floor, and Tucker latched onto him. Wash would protest about being the little spoon, but Tucker’s arms around his waist felt so right he didn’t say anything, instead just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of Tucker’s bare skin against his own.

Tucker managed to find the blanket, and hauled it over them so they didn’t freeze, and then pressed his lips against Wash’s neck, just below the implantation port.

“See?” Tucker muttered. “Picked up right where we left off.”


End file.
